The classroom was still half-asleep, the early morning light spilling in through the tall windows and stretching across rows of empty desks. A low hum of chatter echoed from the hallway outside, lockers slamming and laughter bouncing off the walls—but inside, it was quieter. Softer. Like the calm before everything started.

At the back of the room, Noah sat hunched over his desk, shoulders slightly tense, a small heart-shaped box of chocolates resting half-hidden beneath his notebook. The shiny wrapping caught the light every time he shifted, like it was trying to expose him.

“Dude, you’re going to crumple the box if you keep gripping it like that,” his friend muttered, leaning casually against the desk beside him.

“I’m not—” Noah stopped, exhaling, loosening his hands. “I just… I need to write the name before he gets here.”

He flipped open the small card attached to the chocolates. The inside was still blank. Completely blank.

His friend raised an eyebrow. “You still haven’t written it? You’ve been staring at that thing for like five minutes.”

“I know,” Noah whispered, glancing toward the door. “What if it’s weird? What if he knows it’s me right away? What if—”

“Oh my god, just write it,” his friend cut in, grabbing a pen and shoving it into his hand. “You literally bought chocolates. That’s already not subtle.”

Noah hesitated… then finally pressed the pen to the paper.

The tip barely touched the card—

“Wait,” his friend suddenly hissed under his breath, straightening slightly. “He’s here.”

Noah’s heart dropped.

Footsteps. Close. Too close.

There was no time.

Without thinking, he snapped the card shut—still unsigned—and shoved the entire box into his desk just as the classroom door creaked open.

A familiar voice drifted in, casual, unaware.

Noah froze for a split second—then quickly pulled away from the desk and sat up straight just before he could be seen.

His friend stepped back, acting like nothing had happened.